The Trap
by MohawkWoman
Summary: Warned of trouble in the forest near his people's village, Connor rushes to investigate and finds more than he bargained for. This is one mission he'll wish he hadn't set out on. And someone else will wish they'd stayed home too. Set in an 18th century AU.


The Trap

* * *

 _Late summer, 1785_

The American Revolution was over, and there was peace in the colonies at last. The end of the war heralded not only the departure of the British army from the continent, but also the total disarray of the Templar Order in the Americas.

Connor Kenway was grateful for that peace; and that his family, his friends, and the Mohawk village of his people had survived the war with the British and Templar. Having lived a solitary life as he fought his enemies, he took advantage of the newfound peace to settle down and marry, and he and his Mohawk wife had just welcomed their firstborn into the world. But Connor knew well not to allow that peace to give him a false sense of security. For even though those two factions were no longer a threat, rogue members of both groups still remained in the colonies, as well as bandits and other nefarious individuals.

So when several children came running home to the Mohawk village in fright early one evening, frantically announcing they had heard the distressed cries of a man in the woods while they were picking blackberries, Connor was quick to act. He immediately grabbed his weapons and raced off into the forest to investigate, heading to one of the fields where the village's crops were growing, which was where the children heard the cries coming from.

With his tomahawk gripped firmly in his hand, his bow and quiver of arrows on his back, and his gauntlets containing the hidden blades secured to his wrists, Connor was ready to confront whatever danger lay ahead. He was glad he had chosen to live with the Mohawk during the summer and fall months. The Homestead would be fine without him during that time, and he was not far away if they needed him. Come winter he would return to the Homestead, and spend the cold months at the manor house, where his family would be more protected from the harsh winter weather.

Approaching the area cautiously, he paused when he saw movement out the corner of his eye. Looking to his right, he caught a glimpse of his mother, Ziio, stealthily moving through the trees with her own weapons as she made her way around to the opposite side of the watermelon patch where the children had heard the man. Adjusting the grip on his tomahawk, Connor peered around the side of a tree trunk to inspect the area. Upon seeing who the children had heard, he stepped out into the open and addressed the man.

"Hello Father."

"Connor! Lovely evening we're having, isn't it?"

Dangling from a tree inside a net snare he himself had rigged, was none other than Haytham Kenway. For the past few weeks, he had been waging war on the unknown thief who was stealing from the community watermelon patch. Having set out several such net traps around the edge of the field near the section where Ziio had planted their melons (where the majority of the thefts were occurring), Haytham checked them each morning and evening to see if he had captured anyone, convinced the culprit or culprits were vagrants who might have settled in the area. So far his efforts yielded no results, yet the melons continued to be eaten. Deciding his traps were not enough, Haytham had set out with the intention of spending the night guarding the patch. Using his Parkour skills, he moved about from tree branch to tree branch, where the unsuspecting melon thief would not expect anyone to be. For nearly an hour he had patrolled the perimeter of the patch from up in the trees until he spied something on the ground. That's when Haytham's clever plan went terribly wrong.

"Yes. It is a lovely evening." Connor replied, the trace of a smile quirking up the corners of his mouth as he looked up at his father, the net ever so gently turning to and fro with the former Grand Master of the Templar Order's Colonial Rite nestled inside of it.

"Nice view from up here. Beautiful sunset beginning to take shape."

"Father?"

"Yes son?"

"What are you doing?"

With a heavy sigh, Haytham pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips, then proceeded to explain.

"I decided to watch for the thief tonight from up in the trees where no one would suspect anyone to be. While I was patrolling the area, I suddenly spotted some tracks on the ground over there." Haytham explained, pointing to a spot several feet away from Connor. "In my eagerness to investigate some possible evidence that might lead me to the thief, I leapt to the ground for a closer look. In my haste, I landed on one of the snares I had set and hid under some leaves. ….I need not tell you what happened after that." Haytham added after a slight, embarrassed pause.

"No. You do not." Connor replied, amusement tinging his voice. Curious about the tracks his father saw, he began to slowly move about as he searched for them.

 _"_ _Connor! No! Don't step over…"_ WHOOSH! "…there."

It took several moments for the hidden net that ensnared Connor to stop moving, and Haytham shook his head as he face palmed himself, sliding his hand down to cover his mouth as he watched his son bobbing and swaying about as the movements of the net gradually slowed until it gently turned to and fro as his own net did.

"I do not feel very well." Connor commented, looking slightly green.

"I am surprised that the captain of the Aquila would get seasick, given all the ocean voyages you've made."

"I am not at sea, Father. And no ocean voyage was ever like this." Connor dryly replied, as he cast a droll look at Haytham.

"True." Haytham thoughtfully concurred with a nod. "It was a bit of a tumultuous jolt, I dare say. Fear not, however. The queasiness will soon pass, as did mine. And at least there are no witnesses to our awkward situation." he added with a slight laugh, noticing that a strange look came over Connor's face as he said it, as though the young man suddenly remembered something.

At that moment, Ziio emerged out of the forest and slowly walked over to where her husband and son were suspended from the trees. Arms folded across her chest, she looked completely disgusted with the two of them.

"Dearest! How delightful of you to join us!" Haytham exclaimed, feigning joy that his wife had arrived. In truth he was anything but delighted, for he knew she would never let him and Connor live this down.

"So this is the man the children heard screaming in the woods? My own husband?"

"Darling, I….."

"Ratonhnhaké:ton and I ran out here as fast as we could, thinking you were being attacked by who knows who. And this is what I find when I get here?"

"My love, I…."

"Do you have any idea the horrible thoughts that were going through my head as I ran through the forest, in fear of what I would see when I arrived here? Do you?"

"Ziio, I…."

"It is no use, Father. You might as well let her say her peace."

"And _you!"_ Ziio cried, turning her wrath onto Connor, who looked properly shamefaced. "How is it my son, a skilled Assassin who fought countless enemies! Who was clever enough to figure out the Templars' every move! The father of my grandson! Could allow himself to be snared like a rabbit while _that_ continues to eat our crop!" Ziio asked, gesturing to another part of the field where a chubby raccoon was helping himself to another melon. "Do you know how frightened your wife is for you right now? I swear, I do not know what to make of you both sometimes. This comes from _your_ side of the family! I blame you!" she stated, pointing an accusing finger at Haytham before storming off towards the village, muttering in Mohawk as she went.

For several minutes after she left, a contrite Haytham and Connor sat quietly in their respective nets, still gently turning about from side to side.

"Well. Here we are." Haytham finally said with a sigh.

"Here we are." Connor echoed.

"Hidden blade?"

"Hidden blade."

Triggering their weapons to the double hiss of scraping steel, both men cut their way out of their woven traps, landing gracefully on the ground as opposed to the less than elegant way they ended up hanging in the nets. Retracting their blades, Connor straightened his robes while Haytham dusted off his coat sleeves and adjusted his tricorn hat. Then together, they walked side by side back to the village.

"On the bright side, one good thing came out of all this." Haytham declared, his hands clasped behind his back. "At least we know now who is stealing the watermelons."

"Yes."

"Now I can set the appropriate trap to catch our little masked bandit. Then we will take him and set sail on the Aquila, and release him somewhere far from the village so he won't be able to find his way back. South America perhaps."

"I think that is a bit excessive, Father. Releasing him on the other side of the valley will be far enough."

"I suppose." Haytham relented. Noticing a clump of daisies, he reached down and plucked one up. "Do you think some flowers would appease your mother?" One look at Connor's expression gave him his answer. "No. Perhaps not. Well. We will have to figure out some way to make her forgive us for worrying her so."

More silence.

"Your mother is still going to be livid when we get back. We will probably have to prepare our own dinner tonight."

"Possibly."

"At least you will still have a bed to sleep in tonight. I, on the other hand, will probably end up sleeping on the floor."

"Probably."

"We must have looked ridiculous, swinging about in those nets."

"Undoubtedly."

"I just wish Ziio would see the humor in all of this."

 _Meanwhile, back at the Mohawk village…._

 _"_ _Oh_ you should have _seen_ them!" Ziio laughed as she sat inside the longhouse with her daughter-in-law. "They looked so _silly_ hanging there in those nets! And the looks on their faces….."

With a snort, both women burst into giggles for the third time since Ziio returned from the forest with the news of what happened. Finally, after their sides began to hurt, their laughter gradually subsided. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Ziio sighed, a huge smile still lighting up her face as she addressed her son's pretty wife.

"We have to stop laughing. They will be back soon." Ziio told the young woman. "Oh! Here they come! Now remember, we must act as though we are still displeased with them for the worry they caused us."

For the rest of that evening, things were a bit frosty in the Kenway section of the longhouse. Upon returning home, Haytham took full responsibility for what happened and apologized profusely. Later, he tried to make light of what happened with a quip that the raccoon was an Assassin, given that it hid its face behind a mask and was eating Templar watermelons from Haytham's section of the patch. But it was to no avail. Finally, in an act of desperation, he promised to buy Ziio a good wool blanket to make herself a new coat with. As for Connor, he tended to the baby that night, cradling his son in his arms when he fussed. He even changed the baby's clout with fresh cattail fluff when it became soiled, and gave his wife a soothing back rub. Still, the ladies hardly spoke to their husbands, smiling and laughing softly to each other when the men weren't looking.

The following morning as Haytham and Connor awoke in their beds (Haytham being grateful he hadn't been relegated to sleeping on the floor), both men noticed something dangling over their heads. Bringing their sleepy eyes into focus, they saw the objects were small woven nets, each with a tiny doll inside of it and suspended from the overhead posts that were part of the frame that supported the sleeping bunks attached to the side wall of the longhouse. With an amused smile, Connor reached up and tapped the little net with his finger to make it swing.

"Father?"

"Yes?"

"You were saying something about wishing Ista had a sense of humor?"

~The End~

 **Author's note:**

I hope you enjoyed this little oneshot about Connor, Haytham and Ziio. The idea came to me after I received a request to write another Assassin's Creed fanfic, and I wanted to draw on the humor I remembered in AC3 when Connor and Haytham crashed through that door and landed in the water. Thank you Dogmatil for your suggestion and for your support. I haven't written about AC3 in a while, since I usually write in a different category. But it was fun to write about Connor and his family again, and I am glad you requested another story.

Enjoy!

MohawkWoman :)


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